Winter magic: White snow, still, sunshine, gray sky.

What is this strange sensation I feel inside of me as my legs move so rhythmically? It’s like a small flame that just lit up from a dull ember. Like a match that had just gone out but strangely reignited and lit up again. It’s small, and it’s weak, but it’s warm and it’s glowing. It warms me from the inside out and reminds me of when that flame was a bonfire out of control, not that long ago. It’s still there – that little flame. If I can just keep it going. I will because I must. Step after step just to move in no particular direction and to no particular destination. Just to go. Forward, onward, to anywhere. You know what I really love?

To walk.


Winter tree. The things you'll see. How happy you can be.

Tonight I love…
to walk. A lot. On and on. Forever.


One thought on “Walk

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